


love me five times

by janie_tangerine



Series: hearts fic thing series [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hearts, I Blame Tumblr, Jon Snow Knows Something, M/M, Minor Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark, Minor Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark, Multi, OT5, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Soulmates, Weddings, coronavirus fic extravaganza, did this come out crackier than it was supposed to? probs, ned stark needs a vacation stat, randyll tarly's a+ parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23334013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: in which Ned Stark, among having to deal with more political matters than he'd like, ends up making things easier when it comes to Jon's four hearts.He also needs a very long vacation, most likely.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Gilly/Jon Snow/Samwell Tarly/Tormund/Ygritte, Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow & Ned Stark, Jon Snow/Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow, Tormund Giantsbane/Ygritte
Series: hearts fic thing series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623322
Comments: 35
Kudos: 218
Collections: COW-T - the Clash Of the Writing Titans





	love me five times

**Author's Note:**

> AAAAND for the next round of hearts fic thing ridiculousness brought to you by our usual coronavirus quarantine fic spree, have the OT5 of doom which... I mean I thought I'd do it straight-up BUUUT then I realized that the ned pov could have been hilarious THEREFORE YOU GET THE OUTSIDER POV which is hopefully entertaining. PROBABLY the next one is the throbb prequeltothisone but idk we'll see /o\ (also for plot purposes this is asoiaf canon but tormund is got canon XD)
> 
> that said: nothing belongs to me, the title is a bad pun on a song by the doors and yeah have some crack. *saunters back downwards*

“What in the _fucking_ Seven Hells,” Ygritte says as she turns over in her bedroll during a snowy night and finds out that her heartbeat is gone and that she has _four_ hearts neatly lined at the bottom of her furs.

She closes her eyes.

Opens them again.

“Well, _fuck_ ,” she reiterates when they don’t disappear, then she moves on her knees and takes a better look.

She has _seen_ people exchanging hearts, obviously.

 _None_ of the ones in front of her are obviously whole — they’re all smaller than the usual. There is a light brown one covered in red swirls, _bad news_ , which is… about a fourth of an average one, then there is a pale blue one otherwise covered in red swirls, too, a _bright red_ one that’s about a _third_ of an average heart… and then a slightly larger, _black_ one. With a few red swirls, not many but _very_ bright.

All right.

She has _never_ seen a black heart in her entire life, but no song ever said it was a _bad_ thing. Bad hearts are… well. Bad hearts just tend to not go to anyone and it’s the _red_ that shows eventual damage, not any other color. She touches it, feeling its pull most —

And it’s _nice_ , she thinks. It feels comfortable, _warm_ , and even if for a moment she feels washed over in sadness, it’s not… _crippling_. She likes it, she thinks. She -

“Ygritte!” Jarl screams from outside her tent, “you can’t begin to guess what jus’ happened!”

“What?” She barks back.

“Tormund’s got _four_ hearts this morning!”

 _… Tormund has four hearts_?

Suddenly, her eyes fall on the large, _red_ heart. The one that’s _naturally_ red.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

-

“Huh,” Tormund says after Ygritte goes to fetch him and drags him into her tent, with all the hearts _he_ got.

They match hers perfectly, except for their own pieces, of course. Her own heart is flame-red, with orange and golden swirls, and she quite likes how it looks. And she _feels_ it’s hers… but she doesn’t feel the need to have it back for now. Of course. It would make no sense.

Tormund puts them delicately on the ground, then looks at her, then at the hearts, an eyebrow rising.

“ _Well_ ,” he says, “can’t say I never thought ‘bout stealin’ you once or twice.”

She huffs. “As if I’d just _let_ you,” she says, but… she feels a nice warmth in her chest now that she looks at him, and _well_ , Tormund is an excellent warrior and a good friend and she always wondered how he’d be like in bed, except she never bothered to put a move on him because she felt they might be too similar and she hasn’t felt like sleeping around, lately… but.

 _But_.

He clears his throat. “Maybe we should… see if they fit?”

Ygritte nods, figuring that there is no point in keeping _parts of the same heart separate_ if they both have them. She takes the pale blue one first and Tormund does the same, and when they move both parts closer… they latch. It looks like just less than half a heart now, and it’s _still_ covered in red swirls. The light brown heart is about the same, but the black one —

When she grabs _her_ part and Tormund does the same with his, it _burns_ maybe a bit hotter, and both of them shudder as she sees them melt into a good almost half of one, the moment they’re done.

“What d’you make of it?” Tormund asks, looking at the three hearts now beating slowly in front of them.

“Never heard of anythin’ like it,” Ygritte shrugs, “but… both of us got a larger part of the black one, and it _is_ bigger than the others, and you _felt_ it when we both touched it, right?”

“I did,” Tormund confirms. “What, you think that the little crow over there is… somethin’ like the _first_ soulmate for both o’ us and the others are… different?”

“Well,” Ygritte says, “you said you thought ‘bout stealin’ me a couple times and I might’ve done the same, but we never acted on it, did we? ‘Cept we might as well now. But I think you ’n me are supposed to be good for each other like _that_ while we’re supposed to be good for the little crow in a different way. The other two… dunno, honestly, but we’ll see.”

Tormund nods. “Makes sense. Tell you what, you should keep mine and I should keep yours, then you take one of the others and we share the little crow?”

Ygritte smiles back. “Sounds good. We shall. Now let’s get some rest. Didn’t Mance say we had to deal with that bastard who sacrifices his children near the Wall soon?”

“He did,” Tormund agrees, and when he leans down to kiss her, she kisses him back.

*

Gilly takes _extreme_ care, these days, to hide the hearts that appeared under her skirts one night, a large-ish light brown one, a smaller black one, both with red swirls in them, and two bright, bright red ones, one like flames and one flowers.

If her father ever finds out about _them_ , she doubts they wouldn’t be thrown out to freeze in the winter night.

The brown one felt warmer than the others, and she likes holding it in her palms best, she thinks, and she hasn’t quite figured out why would she get _four_ , and what four people would want with _her_ , but still.

She swells with hope when she looks at them.

If she hopes that one day she’ll meet them, especially whoever owns the light brown one… she cannot be blamed now, can she? And if her heart is gone…

Well.

Since it happened, everything hurts a little _less_ than before.

She thinks she’s fine like this.

*

Not having a heart is _not_ a downside of his own having gone, Sam thinks, because his father’s words hurt less and his brother’s disinterest doesn’t touch him much, not as before.

But having _four_ fo them —

Sam has them in a chest, that he locks carefully and keeps close all the time.

He thinks the black one and the light blue one are the warmest, and when he touches them he’s always happiest, but those bright red ones feel _safe_ and he likes how they seem to _move_ and end up at the sides of the other two all the time.

Sam used to think he was pretty damn useless, and his father keeps on muttering the same…

But if _four people_ want him somewhere in Westeros, then there is no way he is.

And he can’t wait to find them.

* * *

Now, it’s not that Ned is ungrateful to the gods or anything, actually he’s extremely thankful for his good fortunes and for his beautiful children and beloved wife and he’s _this_ positive that he _could_ actually tell her the truth about Jon’s parentage _now_ , all things considered, and maybe if he did they would finally… well. Not _like each other_ because he knows he can’t ask it of Cat, but… maybe she would be better to him and that rift could be closed.

But.

 _But_.

This entire soul hearts business will be his bloody death.

Of course it’s been _months_ and Balon Greyjoy still hasn’t accepted that Robb and Theon _are_ meant to be together and there is no way they will be with anyone else, Sansa is meant to be with _Sandor Clegane_ of everyone and while Ned does _not_ dislike the man on principle and he proved himself indeed good for his daughter (and the contrary), it meant that _all_ his bannermen are protesting the union _and_ on the other side he’s having to deal with the whole problem with _Jon’s four hearts_ — gods, how is he supposed to meet _four_ of them at any point? Surely it’s not any of his bannermen’s daughters (or sons).

Gods, Ned _really_ hopes that Arya, Bran and Rickon won’t end up being his death, in this sense.

And now there is fucking _Randyll Tarly_ who is coming to visit because his firstborn _might_ be considering going to the Wall and he wants to make sure the lad gets the scope of it.

And he’s arriving in… a few hours at most. Ned sighs as he stands, figuring he’ll go bathe and dress properly — he doesn’t like Lord Tarly _at all_ and he wishes he didn’t have to host him, but he supposes that so is life. He just hopes he doesn’t report any gossip back to King’s Landing.

—

Two hours later, Ned has out in the yard not _all_ of the entourage that had welcomed Robert — he’s _not_ going to give Lord Tarly _that_ kind of welcome — and doesn’t bother to have Bran or Rickon present. Arya huffs her way through it, Sansa scolds her while Clegane stands behind her, Robb and Theon are obviously trying to _not_ hold hands, and Jon is standing next to Theon, looking like he also cannot wait to be anywhere else.

Ned agrees.

Oh, Ned _really_ agrees.

Then Lord Tarly arrives with his firstborn and a couple dozens of men, and Ned notices two things at once.

First, Samwell Tarly does _not_ look like someone who _wants_ to go to the Wall: he’s _soft_ and heavier than most people heading to the Night’s Watch, with hands that look like they never held a sword, and he’s utterly terrified as he walks inside the yard. Secondly, that his father glares at him twice in the span of the time it takes them to get from the gates to the end of the yard.

Ned goes to greet Lord Tarly and it’s a pleasant enough exchange, then invites him to go inside the castle…

And at that point his son trips over a rock and doesn’t crash to the ground because Jon grabbed his arm.

“Thank you,” Samwell Tarly stammers as Jon helps him up.

“That… was no problem at all,” Jon says, and his eyes look a bit softer than usual, and not in the way they are with his siblings.

Ned doesn’t think about it for the moment.

—

Later, Lord Tarly confesses that he actually plans to leave his son at the Wall whether he wants it or not after the few days they spend here, because his second-born is more fit for inheriting his lands than Samwell could ever be.

He also talks about the lad as if his very existence is a waste of space.

Ned’s dislike of Lord Tarly worsens.

He glances at the yard, where Robb and Theon are training and Jon is teaching both Arya and Bran a few moves.

“See,” Lord Tarly says, “won’t even _try_ to hold a sword. I can’t believe _I_ sired him.”

Then he leaves, so he doesn’t see that while Arya and Bran spar on their own, Jon goes to Sam and asks him something, and Sam blushes and shakes his head and Jon says something else and not long later _he_ is giving Sam some basic sword training and well, while Sam is obviously _not_ a natural, he’s not… a complete disgrace either.

This is _weird_ , though. Jon doesn’t really make friends easily, so Ned is actually glad of it, but the way they looked at each other for a moment —

 _Wait a moment_.

Ned takes a better look at Samwell Tarly, then he remembers _the color of the lad’s eyes_.

Good gods.

 _It’s the same as Jon’s heart_.

Well, _one_ of them.

Ned sits back down at his desk, praying that this doesn’t end up going sideways.

—

As Ned had predicted, two days later they figure it out.

Jon shows up in his solar with Sam in tow, both looking like they’re deathly afraid of how this might go, and tells the story.

Yes, they _liked_ each other immediately.

 _Yes_ , Jon had shown him the hearts and then Sam had opened his own bag with trembling hands and shown him three matching ones and a _black_ heart with red swirls in it that had to be Jon’s, and they merged the other three and it worked like a charm, and Sam had a larger part of the light blue heart, and what should they do now? He can’t let Sam go to the Wall unless he joins, too —

Ned figures they will have to talk to Randyll Tarly before discussing _that_.

—

It goes, strangely, easier than Ned had predicted. Tarly hears the story, then looks at Sam in disgust.

“So one of your soulmates is _his bastard_?”

Sam nods, minutely.

“And you are _fine_ with it?”

“Yes,” Sam replies at once, and he looks slightly less terrified now.

Tarly _grins_. Then he tells Ned that in the South having a bastard’s heart was ground enough to get disinherited, so if he’s willing to keep Sam here, well, no need to go to the Wall.

Honestly? At this point Ned would have let the lad stay just to have him out of his father’s way, so he accepts and makes him understand that he cannot wait for them to _leave_.

Thankfully, the man leaves the next morning.

Jon and Sam are holding hands _tightly_ and grinning at each other and seemingly Sam can’t care less for having lost his inheritance.

Ned lets himself smile. That went better than he thought it might.

—

Six moons later Ned is at _the end of his fucking wits_.

Now: Samwell Tarly joining his household was actually _good_ for everyone because the lad is smart, has read more than everyone in the castle put together, has somehow managed to be friends with _all_ of his children and everyone likes him.

 _Everything else_ is going terribly because he keeps on getting letters from his bannermen who are requiring that he marries Sansa to one of their children, which means that if he wants this to end he needs to marry her to Clegane as soon as possible and while Sansa would _love_ that, considering how she only talks about how the songs about Brienne of Tarth and the Kingsl- _Jaime Lannister’_ s marriage are a blessing to the world, he’s pretty sure that the man is still not entirely sure that _she_ had his heart, and he would like for him to be… more settled before nuptials. Balon Greyjoy is still writing that if he doesn’t go back on his decision concerning Robb and Theon he’s disinheriting his only living son, and Ned is halfway sure that Theon would welcome the decision, but he can’t handle _that_ right now. Meanwhile Robert is still trying to convince him to have Joffrey marry _Arya_ and he wants to join their houses and Ned is pretty sure that would go catastrophically _bad_ in the span of minutes and on top of that Arya told him that she just got a heart herself, and —

It _is_ golden with black swirls, maybe a tiny bit of red popping up once in a while, but that’s it, which means it’s _not_ Tommen’s or Joffrey’s (especially _Joffrey_ ’s) and Ned highly doubts that it’s Shireen Baratheon’s or belonging to any of Davos Seaworth’s children (it’s a fairly _known_ open secret that the child Stannis Baratheon claimed as his without disclosing the mother is in fact his wife’s, and they _all_ live in Dragonstone, it’s… fairly obvious how things stand with them).

He also knows that it’s entirely likely that Robert has had bastards that _could_ be old enough for Arya.

He cannot deal with _that_ too.

He sighs, looking at the new ravens Luwin just brought him… and sees that there is one from his brother.

He opens it at once — at first it’s the usual well wishes, and then Benjen says that he wanted to come down to visit but they’re negotiating something with the wildlings as usual twice per year, and he cannot… but why doesn’t he come and visit with maybe the lads so they can see the place and amuse themselves with the giant that came with Mance Rayder?

Ned thinks about it.

Then he decides that it’s the perfect excuse to not worry about any of _that_ nonsense.

—

He ends up going with only Robb, Theon, Jon and Sam. Robb came because since he’s to be Lord of Winterfell, he has to go at some point and since it’s been a century or so since the Night’s Watch made a truce with the wildlings and now they actually cooperate then he also should be familiar with _them_ , Theon of course went with him, Jon wanted to and Sam, well, Sam _would_ have gone with Jon anyway. Ned doesn’t miss that they both brought a large shared bag where he supposes their hearts are resting — they _do_ bring them everywhere if they leave the castle together, lately, but he can imagine why.

So, they take their horses and head to the Wall and everything is going as expected until they reach Castle Black. Benjen is waiting for them and is glad to show them inside. Some people are training, along with a few wildlings. It’s all friendly sparring, of course.

Theon immediately notices a wildling redheaded girl with bright auburn hair who looks _very_ good at archery, and he seems about to ask if he can join in, while another man, also likely redheaded but a lighter shade, is exchanging sword blows with _four_ different recruits and wiping the floor with them.

Ned _immediately_ notices that Jon is _staring_ at the both of them, and Sam is staring at Jon first and then at them later, and —

“Mind if I join?” Jon asks, grabbing his sword.

The recruits are more than happy to let him do it, and Ned notices the wildling girl going stiff and saying she’ll be back later before she turns to look at the rest of the yard.

The wildling man _does_ wipe the floor with everyone except for Jon, who holds his own rather well for a _long_ time until he makes a mistake and he loses his sword —

Then Ned hears a gasp from Sam’s side, and it’s a _girl’s_ gasp.

He turns, and…

A pretty girl who is also obviously a wilding given her clothing, with pretty, large chestnut eyes and hair of the same color, and she’s looking at Sam like she knows something he doesn’t, and then —

“Can I help you?” Sam asks, kindly, and she swallows and looks at her feet, then back up at him, and then he also gasps, whispering that _she feels familiar somehow_ , and she says _your eyes, uh, your eyes are the color of one of my hearts —_

One of her _hearts_?

“I’ll be fucked,” the wildling man exclaims, and then Ned turns back at the yard where he’s helped Jon up along with the girl and Jon is _staring_ at the girl like he’s completely smitten, but also at the other man, and then all five of them look at each other —

“Ygritte, look at that,” the wildling redhead girl says, “guess we _did_ find the little crow, didn’t we?”

“How —” Jon blurts.

“Your heart is black with red swirls, no?” Ygritte goes on. “I could _feel_ it. Tormund, _did you_?”

Ned really, _really_ wishes he hadn’t noticed that the wildling man is looking at Jon the way _he_ looks at Cat.

“I think I did,” _Tormund_ replies. “Guess we should steal him and th’other one, at this point?”

“Think Gilly did it for us,” she grins.

Oh, _gods_.

Ned thinks he needs a drink.

Scratch that, he needs the entire content of his wine cellars.

—

It doesn’t take _that_ long to figure it out.

They all go to the refectory where Jon and Sam place their bag on a table and the three wildings put theirs next, and when it’s opened…

Seven Hells.

The wildlings have a good chunk of Sam’s heart, obviously only missing Jon’s piece. It doesn’t have many red swirls now. They also have half of the brown eyed girl’s, Gilly, a good part of Jon’s, only missing Sam’s sizable piece, and a bit less than half of Tormund and Ygritte’s both.

In Jon and Sam’s bag there are the other three halves of theirs and the missing pieces for both Jon’s and Sam’s.

Ned’s head _hurts_.

Tormund explains that he and Ygritte found out almost the moment it happened, then they rescued Gilly from her whoremonger of a father and may he rot in the Seven Hells and at that point they merged her pieces of hearts with theirs, and now here they are. Jon explains how he and Sam ran into each other, and then all five of them glare at everyone else in the room.

Ned knows when he’s not wanted and so makes a hasty retreat with both Lord Commander Mormont and his brother.

“Gods,” he says when they’re out of the room, “this is going to be a _mess_ to solve.”

The Lord Commander nods. “I mean… the two redheads are with Mance Rayder, they’re… decent folk as far as wildings are concerned. The other girl… well. Her father, he has been a bane on the outer side of the Wall for years. Had a bunch of daughters and would get them with child, then sacrifice all the male ones and raise the girls to… have his children. Putting an end to it was one of the things we had agreed on during the latest negotiations. She is a nice, lovely girl, from what I saw, but — well. There’s _that_.”

Ned’s head might explode.

But before he even thinks of unraveling this, he’ll wait for those five to be done.

—

They all walk out of the room _grinning_ , and Ned can see that they all have their hearts back from how they just _look_ at each other.

Then Benjen says that it’s almost time for dinner so they could all just have it with them and hash things tomorrow and when Ned sneaks glances at their table where they were left alone, he notices the following:

Ygritte _and_ Tormund look at Jon in the same way _Sam_ looks at him.

Jon looks _back_ at all three of them.

Gilly looks at _Sam_ like that, and Sam looks back at _her_ and Jon in the same way —

But Tormund and Ygritte hover around Gilly _very_ protectively and in between them… well, they look like two people who are exceedingly _good_ friends and might be acquainted also in different ways even if they aren’t _smitten_ , and within a course they hover around Sam the same way, and Jon and Gilly are all smiles and glancing at each other _nicely_ , and good gods, so it’s not just that they all have each others’s hearts, but that it’s _different_ for some of them?

Gods.

Ned wonders what would Lyanna think of this, comes to the conclusion that she would have found it _incredibly_ amusing and asks the Lord Commander for more wine.

The fact that both Robb and Theon are laughing their arses off in the nearby table as they make friends with a few other younger recruits is _not_ helping him at all.

—

“So,” he asks Jon a few days later, “care to explain your father how… _that_ actually works?”

Jon’s face flushes slightly. “Uh, we’re still figuring it out. But I think — I feel the same for Sam, Tormund and Ygritte, I think. They… feel like that for me but not _each other_. Sam is like that with Gilly, too.”

So Ned was right about _that_.

“But, I think Ygritte and Tormund were, uh, _well acquainted_ before, and Gilly was with them too for, well, obvious reasons, and she’s lovely even if we’re not, well, like _that_ , but I do like her quite a lot, and I think Tormund and Ygritte and Sam are the same, too. It’s… weird,” he admits, “but it feels right?”

Ned gives him a nod, then considers it.

Gods, this situation is _insane._ Wildlings don’t go beyond the Wall. He’s pretty sure King’s Landing wouldn’t take _that_ well. But Jon is _smiling_ as he talks and Ned remembers how usually he’s lonely and now he has _four_ people and gods, he knows he’s also partially at fault for it because if Cat knew the truth she wouldn’t have made clear that she was displeased with him being in the castle and maybe he’d have grown up… happier, he supposes, and he’s not missing the fact that _none_ of the people in their little party would have been welcomed in many places south of the Wall.

… Well.

 _Maybe_ in Dorne. But Dorne is _very_ far and he can’t right well send Oberyn Martell a raven and ask him if he would be amenable to house Jon as his ward along with _four_ other people.

Or better, he _could have_ , and Oberyn would probably have found it hilarious, if _the goddamned Rebellion hadn’t happened_ , so he will avoid _that_ unless it’s the last resource he has.

Gods, Cat is going to _murder_ him if he does what he’s thinking of… but then again, if it happens, then her worries about Jon possibly coming before any of their trueborn children when inheriting would vanish, because that would be out of any reasoning, and —

 _Gods_.

Maybe he should start hoping that Arya’s heart _really_ belongs to one of Robert’s bastards or no one is ever going to agree to marry _any_ of his children, regardless of his name, considering what his castle is turning into.

“Jon,” he sighs, “you _do_ want to be with all five of them.”

“Well,” Jon whispers, “yes, but I know how it is. I mean, we talked. At most we could stay here without taking our vows.”

“Jon, I will _not_ have you and Sam do that and sneak out at night just because of… customs. I mean, your brother and Theon are already _a problem_ in that sense, half of my bannermen want me to ignore that your sister’s heart belongs to someone who is _already_ in Winterfell, Arya — never mind _that_. I don’t think three wildlings living in Winterfell would make things any worse. And I mean… I _guess_ that if it means anything to them you could marry Ygritte and Sam could marry Gilly and so _his_ father would definitely be off my back for the rest of eternity and no one could object, and Tormund can… help Ser Rodrik, _I don’t know_. But I’m not going to say no if it’s what you want.”

Jon’s eyes go wide.

“ _Really_?”

Ned shrugs. “I think Sansa _really_ needs her marriage sooner rather than later. She would probably be delighted to share. _I don’t know_ , but we can make it work.”

Ned doesn’t exactly expect Jon to hug him after, but —

But he does, and he breathes in sharply when he holds him back, and he likes to think that Lyanna is approving of this.

—

The next day, Ned finds out that when wildlings want to thank you for your future hospitality and want to make sure to be good in-laws, they’ll pound you on your back hard enough to _hurt_.

Both Tormund and Ygritte, for that matter.

Ned has a feeling that no one is ever going to call Jon a bastard to his face in the future.

—

Turns out, Sansa _would_ have been glad to share but Cat says she doesn’t think it’s _exactly_ proper, so they make it a two days’ feast — Sansa marries Sandor Clegane on day one and if the man looks about to faint every other moment, Ned just ignores it. He looks _happy_ , though, so that’s what matters.

Then the _next_ day they have Jon marry Ygritte _and_ Sam marrying Gilly with Tormund giving away both girls while Robb and Arya hold Jon’s cloak for him and make fun of him every other moment except the one he actually swears his vows and following them upstairs for the bedding before everyone can call for it.

He didn’t need to hear Ygritte say out loud that she likes these southron _dresses_ which will make it way easier to get to the good part because she won’t have to get out of fifteen types of furs, but he’ll live with it.

He drinks his entire glass of wine and starts to think of his options.

Tomorrow, he will have to write to Robert and explain the situation, _then_ to Greyjoy again (at this point he’ll tell him that he can do whatever he wants and Robb won’t care either way), _then_ to all the bannermen who deserted Sansa’s wedding, _and_ to Randyll Tarly to inform him that his son has just married a wildling. _That_ he kind of looks forward to, if only to imagine the asshole’s face.

 _Tomorrow_.

Now —

“My lady,” he tells Cat, “do you think we could turn in early? Because I think I’m in dire need of not being _here_ anymore.”

Cat, whose stare are _softer_ now than they ever were when concerning Jon in their entire life, stops looking at the stairs and then looks at him, and the blue of her eyes looks darker in the candlelight.

“My lord,” she agrees, “I could not _wait_ to hear you ask.”

Well then, Ned decides, he’s going to deal with all of that madness tomorrow.

Good thing that he made sure those five would be shown in the largest bedroom of the castle, in the _opposite_ wing of the castle as the one where they sleep — people in Castle Black kept on discussing how _loud_ they were and honestly, Ned would rather not hear _that_.

There is a limit to everything, after all.

End.


End file.
